


Dream Big

by Tuiteyfruity



Series: Tiny!Hamilton [2]
Category: American Revolution RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Fluff, Lams - Freeform, M/M, hamilton musical, once again tiny means pocket sized!, tiny!ham
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-03 00:54:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5270450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tuiteyfruity/pseuds/Tuiteyfruity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a very angsty tiny!ham Lams fic in which Hamilton has a nightmare. Hamilton is known for speaking his mind on almost anything, but Tiny!ham has some insecurities that he can’t risk revealing, even to Laurens. (the title is sort of misleading sorry) </p><p>Takes place after Fine Print, though it is not super important you read it first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dream Big

**Author's Note:**

> Surreal gore in the dream sequence.

Lucid dreams rarely begin as such. They are perceived as normal for what could be many, many realtime minutes before the dreamer notices something strange about their world. Since that realization can take place well into a dream it is usually to the despair of the dreamer.

This was one of those dreams for Hamilton. The dream started out completely normal for anyone else. Your average get up and go through your normal daily routine to eventually wake up and find that you were asleep the whole time - dream.

His first clue should have been that everything was normal. Too normal, since that was possible for Hamilton. Instead of being his usual 5 inches tall, he stood at a grand 5’7” as he got up in the morning and headed, on his own, to Washington’s tent to begin his work.

He sat in the chair at the desk, not on top of the desk itself, able to use a proper quill and ink well. Words did not really exist, even as he wrote. Lines of ink danced and spun without rhyme or reason, unless they were names. Names looked all right. Nobody mentioned how out of the ordinary his new stature was, in fact, he didn’t see anyone, the place was deserted. The entire camp was empty even as he finally left the tent to get food. Which is when he ran into Laurens.

John smiled at him and embraced him, kissing his cheek. No one else was around, so they were safe showing affection, but it still felt wrong for some reason.

“Laurens, something is not right!” said Hamilton, pulling away from Laurens, but holding on to his hands

“What are you talking about Hamilton?” Laurens was still smiling. It was creepy.

“How is this possible!” he said, more to himself then to Laurens.

“Is something wrong my dear?” Laurens asked.

Hamilton frowned. He had just stated that something was very wrong and that he couldn’t describe what it was. The world felt off, and he wracked his brain for some explanation. He looked into Laurens’ eyes. Maybe they held the answer.

His heart sank. He knew exactly what was wrong; he was tall. This was a dream. Even so, he had a dream Laurens that he could make full use of until he woke up.

“Is something wrong my dear?” Laurens repeated sound for sound, pitch for pitch.

“No!” Hamilton quickly said, moving in to kiss Laurens again.

The dream had other ideas however, as Laurens’ face became too high up to reach. At first it was just a few more inches but the distance increased. His hands held less and less of Laurens’ as they got smaller and smaller. He was shrinking. His fantasy was being stolen from him by his own mind!

“John help!” he cried as he slipped away, losing his hold on Laurens’ sleeves.

Laurens made no move to reach for him. He was shrinking fast than gravity could keep up with and the earth fell away so that when he stopped shrinking he fell at least a foot, landing with an odd silent “thump” that did not jar him in any way.

Now felt like the appropriate moment to scream, or at least, attempt to. His lips would not part, some mysterious adhesive kept them shut. But Laurens spotted him regardless, of course, having observed his transformation. Hamilton couldn't comprehend the expression on Lauren's face, his attention taken by the movement of his friend's foot. It was lifting up and moving over him.

The boot was descending slowly, excruciatingly so, but he could not get away as the shadow fell across him and zeroed in on his spot. His legs were not moving, or maybe they were, he couldn't tell. It didn't matter that he knew it was a dream, it felt real enough and he was not waking up. Looking around he saw he was surrounded by grass. He seized a blade in an attempt to assist his movement, to pull him to a new location.

This beyond backfired. His hands and arms got sliced through and started bleeding, yet he was able to hold on even as the ground became slick due to the torrent of liquid flowing from his wounds. It was a current that moved backwards as fast as he ran forwards, effecting only him and not Laurens.

He looked up and caught a glimpse of Lauren's unemotional, resolute face looking down at him. No sorrow, no anger, no malice. Just some strange power compelling his friend to end him like one was simply ridding their house of a spider. Actually, now that he thought about it, he couldn't see Laurens' face anymore. It was in shadows now, or maybe always was? he couldnt remember if he was ever able to see Laurens' eyes since he ran into him a minute ago.

The sole of the massive shoe made contact with his back and forced to lie to the ground. He was not yet squashed flat and smushed into a simple stain on the ground. no, clearly Laurens meant to drag this out.

But the end never came, just constant increasing pressure on his entire body, like he was being forced into a smaller and smaller space, as if he would be soon so flat that paper wold seem thick. And he could not move and he could not breathe! His heart rate, already high, now buzzed, draining him of life faster. Each moment he could not believe he would last any longer but he did.

Breathe. He needed to breathe. It was so dark. But his eyes were closed!

He took a deep, sharp breath. Hamilton no longer felt like he was dying. He forced his eyes open, for some reason he had been holding them tightly shut, yet darkness remained all that he could see. He sat up, but no that was something he could still not do, his limbs felt fake, uninjured, but not real. He thought about moving them but doubted he would get a response.

Actually, he could move his arms and legs, but something held him down on his back. Not with a suffocating pressure, yet the dream was still so fresh, not letting him engage with reality, not letting him reason out his situation, causing him to panic. And this time when he screamed his voice rang out.

"Alexander?" What uh...

A groggy voice called out his name. Whatever was on top of him moved but did not free him, it enveloped him! He struggled as his orientation of gravity shifted and the temperature of air around him dropped rapidly.

Dream and reality disconnected, Hamilton knew where he was, who he was with, and that he was more than safe. Still, he had to catch his breath before he was able to respond to Laurens, who was still waking up but able to keep his hand, which held Hamilton, stable.

It had a good number of nights ago, when it started getting much colder, that Laurens had suggested Hamilton sleep on his chest, under his hand. At first Hamilton had many reservations about this, but when the first attempt went without incident he became very much pleased at the arrangement. John Laurens made for a very comfortable bed, warm and friendly. With his hands providing a protective, though uneven, blanket. Hamilton had felt safe sleeping this way, felt more intimate with John, but now…

"Is everything alright?" Laurens asked, a slightly more aware. "Hold on I'm going to get us some light".

Laurens placed Hamilton down to the left and then got up and went right. In the darkness it took a little fumbling, but he found a candle and lit it before carefully making it back to the cot he was just been sleeping in. Hamilton was not there.

The moment he was set on the ground Hamilton found the edge of the tent and crawled under. The night air hit him, helping to rid his head of any remaining fuzz, and he leaned back against the tarp, letting starlight fill his eyes. What should he tell him? How much of his dream was meant to be shared? It was so vivid in his memory he could easily describe it and make a grand performance of it too.

Out of all the people in his dream to have to attempt to kill him, it had to be Laurens. Hamilton didn’t believe that had any deep meaning, his mind just picked a familiar face, one that was easily conjured up at its convenience. Would Laurens be of the same mind? Would John think that he did not completely trust him, that somewhere, deep down, Hamilton feared him? The last thing he wanted was for Laurens to think less of him.

“Alexander! Shit-”

That was the unmistakable sound of Laurens discovering his absence. He desired Laurens’ company, but Hamilton was not quite ready to be in such close proximity to anyone large, to be handled, to be reminded of his vulnerability. But Laurens would get worried, so he hurried back into the tent.

His friend was frantically searching the folds of the blanket with one hand, a lit candle in the other.

“There you are!” John exclaimed in relief, not hesitating to pick Hamilton up.

He could not show any sort of displeasure at this, any sort of sign that showed he resented the lack of autonomy his size granted him.

“Sorry for the scare John, I just had to relieve myself,” he said, gut twisting, he was lying to Laurens.

Laurens lifted him up so he was eye level.

“Damn you, scaring me twice in a single night!” said Laurens, sitting down. “What on earth were you dreaming about anyways?”

“Oh, it was an awful scare, the worst you could imagine, I dare not tell you,” said Hamilton, maybe he could get John to drop it, and then he wouldn’t have to lie anymore.

Unfortunately Laurens took this mean Hamliton was daring him to inquire further. Or he was just concerned. That was a strong possibility, as Laurens gently kissed his side. Hamilton silently thanked god his dream had not involved Laurens eating him, but the normal pleasure and comfort he took from the man’s gentle lips was still soured.

“Please tell me,” Laurens’ said softly, his lips still close to Hamilton.

Lie or truth? Candle light flickered in Laurens’ eyes. Hamilton stared into them, seeing nothing but concern and love for him.

"I wish to know," another soft kiss brushed Hamilton's entire body, warm air flowing by him.

 _No, you don’t!_  Hamilton nearly screamed, but he managed to keep calm.

Lie, or truth? He had decide now.

Hamilton inhaled and exhaled deeply, then inhaled once again.

“Understand that whatever I tell you next, my love for you has not lessened. Do not think that a mere dream could ever have the power to change my feelings! The fiction my mind weaved tonight was just that, fiction.” Hamilton started to say, his voice cracking embarrassingly.

“You can tell me in the morning, if that is what you wish,” said Laurens.

“If we go back to sleep now, I will have no courage when we wake again,” said Hamilton “but I think it best you put me down first.”

John began to comply with his request but Hamilton realized he could not tell this while looking up at Laurens.

“No, no, I’ve changed my mind. Keep me eye level! That will be best.” And he recounted his dream.

Hamilton was amazed with himself that he was able to get through his telling without crying, Laurens too, however the larger man looked like he might start at any moment. He wasn’t looking at Hamilton, but at the candle on his side. Hamilton reached out and put his hands on either side of John’s nose, centering John’s gaze on him.

“It was just a dream John!”

“In which I killed you!” Laurens choked.

“I also went from being over five feet tall to my current state and bled a river, impossible things, just like your dream phantom’s actions!” he kissed Laurens’ nose.

“How can you even stand to be around me now?” asked Laurens.

“Because there isn’t anywhere in the world I would rather be.” That wasn’t a lie, even he wasn’t being completely forthcoming with his feelings.

Laurens laughed, which unbalanced Hamilton.

“I think it is time we go back to sleep,” suggested Hamilton, not standing back up, but running his fingers along the crevices in John’s hand.

Carefully John lay down and placed Hamilton on his chest. He waited for Hamilton to get comfortable before covering his friend protectively with his palm, setting it down lightly over the small body. Hamilton used all his willpower to not freak out as the massive hand pinned him down, but he clenched the fabric of John’s bed shirt in his hands until his knuckles were white.

“You are confident you are alright?” Laurens asked one more time, he could not fail to feel how tense Hamilton was.

“Yes, goodnight,” said Hamilton.

Laurens extinguished the candle.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment!


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